Perfect Despair
by Narroch
Summary: "We've got our own form of justice and Yagami will taste it fully, he will know it down to the marrow of his bones until killing him would be an act of mercy." MelloxLightxMatt. Livejournal kink contest entry, very dark.


I was very hesitant to post this, since the whole thing is unnecessarily raunchy and bloody, and could be better written in parts, but I have had some requests to see it, so here we are.

That being said, I want to really warn anyone who is faint of heart or stomach: this is a very dark kink driven fic. I was not going for original plot or amazing character depth, the contest simply gave me a cover to try testing my own squick limits, which is exactly what I did.

* * *

Consciousness crept in at a sickening pace; disjointed and sluggish, leaving glistening residual trails of slime as it slunk up his brain stem and settled into various pockets of awareness. Jumbled and out of context, there was no logic to his awakening, no reason for the order in which his perception filed into place. Rather than the pain, or the restraints, or the heat (intimate sensations that should have been alarmingly obvious), it was the stimulus _outside _himself that he first noticed upon clawing his way out of the numbing haze of anesthetics.

The first thing his darkened mind latched onto was a low thudding, a dull throb on the air that was circling and circling him. It sounded like a heartbeat, but it was strangely outside of himself. He tried to focus on the sound, but the effort only made him dizzy, vertigo swelling up in tight spinning loops. His stomach protested weakly, and it was only then that he noticed the fiery pain in his belly, the sickening heat which extended into his limbs, making them numb and heavy. The pain swam lazily in his veins, sporadically pooling little trenches of hurt around his wrists and ankles. He tried to move in order to rub at the soreness encircling his hands before belatedly realizing that he _couldn't_. His limbs were tightly bound.

As this eerie fact prickled across his mind, heavy and lightheaded all at once, he finally began to pull all the skewed puzzle pieces together, creating a disturbing scene. He was drugged, bound, and in pain...

The last piece slid into place as his ears yawned and popped, allowing a world of noise to rush into his head. The slow thudding sound instantly sharpened into a purposeful clicking; pacing footsteps. He raised his head, rubbery neck slurring the movement, and opened bleary sweat-gummed eyes only to see indistinct shadows and a black fist hurtling towards his face.

It connected with a bright white flash across his eyes, and he didn't feel any pain until a few seconds had passed and everything rebounded on him at once. The blunt burning pain of the fist seeped in along with the memories of what had happened. As his head helplessly lolled back, he was able to put the pain into a context, and the name to a face.

He had been captured.

Light Yagami had been captured. Not by L, not by the police, but by _Mello_.

It had been an inconspicuous event, a mere trifle of security. After having been chased by L, his capture seemed anti-climatic, laughable. All the carefully woven lies, all the clever tricks, and betrayals, and grand overarching schemes to uphold his singular claim to innocence...

They were now for nothing.

Even with his complete, intricate plan, so painstakingly crafted and layered with escape routes and safeguards, it had been wiped out by brutal simplicity. Or maybe it was _because_ his head was so trapped in the abstract grandiose that he had been taken so easily. It hadn't been through a computer, or yet another hostage situation, or even an outside force like the ICPO; it had been in the form of a cheap rag shoved across his nose and mouth while walking from his car to his house one night.

He had been whisked down the alley, while his senses were whisked away by the heavy tang of chloroform. It had happened so fast, he hadn't had the time to _think_, let alone fight back or yell out. It was silent and to the point, a far cry from the dramatic back-and-forth game he was used to playing. He had overestimated the security of "insufficient evidence", and underestimated his new enemy's linear mode of attack and complete disregard for "proof". It had never occurred to him that it was even possible to capture a god in such a base manner...

But he was experiencing it now; the full taste of his own helpless humanity.

Light had been bound in a canvas strait jacket, the thick material tighter than a corset across his chest, twisting his arms about himself in a humiliating manner. He had been propped in a chair, and then chained to it as well, so that he could not even slump forward. His ankles were strapped to the legs of the chair, and the heavy metal contraption itself was hard bolted to the floor.

There was an industrial spotlight situated directly over his head so that Light was constantly trapped in a sweltering membrane of artificial heat. It made the room waver in front of his eyes though, in reality, there was very little to see. It looked like the interior of an old utility closet, with weeping brick walls, clanging lead pipes crisscrossing the ceiling, and even a grated drain in the floor from which noxious vapors arose.

However, all these observations came later, when he was left alone to cough and sweat and bleed in the heavy restraints. All that Light was aware of _now, _was the splitting pain of a clenched fist slamming over and over and over again into his face. He had only been half conscious when he started, but now the sensation of pain clarified his mind, each blow bringing him closer to the surface, even as he tried to cringe away from reality.

It _hurt; _each punch feeling like a miniature car crash, complete with shattered glass and broken bones. He moaned, unable to even tell when he was being hit anymore, all the punches were melding together into a throbbing hurt radiating from his face. But the assault continued, whipping him back and forth as far as the biting chains would allow, unable to even fall away from each consecutive hit. It felt like he was being bludgeoned with a brick, sharp, solid, breaking him into pieces. It seemed that his attacker's singular goal was to create a dent in his face; he had never known such rending violence before in his sheltered privileged life, and he could do nothing to defend himself.

Suddenly, the fist buried itself in his exposed stomach and abruptly he couldn't breathe. It took him a few reeling seconds to realize that it was because he was busy vomiting all over himself, choking on the acid still surging through his throat and the blood that was streaming down his face. He gurgled helplessly as his chest trampolined, trying to draw in air to his winded lungs. Over the disgusting sounds of his own simultaneous retching and choking, he could hear a voice, breathless from the exertion of beating him. Light was unsure how long it had been talking to him before he picked up on it.

"...pathetic bitch...can't believe...L was killed...by someone like you..."

He was finally able to take a wheezing gasp, filling his lungs with reviving air, even as the rest of him was filled with biting pain. He couldn't focus on the words, his mind was swimming in and out of consciousness, preoccupied with keeping him breathing and alive. However, the words triggered something, caught his attention with a single hooked claw and dragged his head up regardless of the agony the extra movement caused. The shock of gold blond hair grabbed at his dulled senses first, the only bright color in the dingy box of a room. But it was the words that captivated him as he saw lips move seemingly out of sync.

"Little Kira...your reign...is over...and you...are fucking dead..."

Even with the surface of his face studded with hot shards of pain, and despite his decidedly helpless position, his mind still balked at the sentence, and he found his voice, trembling and hoarse, but speaking nonetheless.

"_Kira...can't die._" It hurt to force the words out, but he had to say it. His pride demanded it no matter what the circumstances.

Mello immediately smacked him across the face, the blow making the room spin in a red swirl as yet another wave of dizziness and agony blasted over him.

"You're already dead..." Mello growled.

Light took a few seconds to gasp, wait for the pain to slink back slightly, though it still prowled in the confines of his bones, and then coerced himself to speak again; unable to take the abuse without some form of mental retaliation.

"_You're too...late...I've already...changed the world..._"

"Shut up! You haven't changed anything! You're just a murderer!" Mello was yelling now, and even with Light's senses dulled and bruised as they were, he could hear the liquid rage in the blonde's voice. Light was getting to him, and even though his common sense begged him to stop, reminding him that he was bleeding, and battered, and his face was probably unrecognizable by now, he still drove the words out through his aching jaw.

"_I already...killed L..._"

Mello snapped. It hadn't taken much, and Light knew he would pay for those words, but he hadn't expected to be shoved back in the chair with hands tight around his neck. He hadn't expected the vice grip to be hard like granite, squeezing until his windpipe was completely pinched shut and suffocation became a color thrown across his oxygen deprived eyes. He tried to struggle but the restraints held fast and he could do nothing but drown. His lungs burned, his vision started blackening around the edges, he convulsed, and over the tin-like whine in his ear he heard a door opening and slamming shut again.

"What are you doing?... Mello! You're fucking killing him!"

And suddenly the killing hands were yanked off and he could breathe again, focused on nothing but the glorious in-out feeling of precious air in his lungs. He wasn't concerned with their arguing, or even who the other person was.

"This bastard deserves to die!"

"No, Mello you can't! We're turning him in remember?"

"Fuck that shit, I'm killing him _now!_" Mello whipped out a sliding knife, the blade shooting out like a flash of lightning as he turned and leaped forward. The other boy simultaneously grabbed him about the waist, attempting to stop his attack. He only succeeded in diverting the motion though, and the sharp razor edge ran along Light's side instead of directly into his chest. His skin split instantly as he screamed and jerked, spasming in the strait jacket as the keen cutting pain shot through him. Already a veritable waterfall of blood was streaming down from his ribs; it had been a shallow cut but it was very long and the wound was now bleeding enthusiastically.

He shuddered, trying to catch his breath through the harrowing line of fire and then glared at the pair with more conviction than he had yet shown.

"_Keep your...dog... on a leash..._"

Matt, who had been busy wrestling Mello against the wall and pinning his arms behind his back until the knife dropped uselessly from his fingers, suddenly stopped, and slowly turned to face Light. Wheezing, bleeding, pathetic Light, yet still haughty enough to think that he could control his situation.

He abruptly released Mello who turned with a snarl, fully intending to finish what he had started; but he was beaten to it as Matt slugged Light across the jaw with enough force that the screws bolting the chair to the floor, gave, and stripped, sending the chair and Light tumbling over with a resounding crash. His head cracked on the concrete floor, and he slumped into an unconscious heap.

Mello stared in surprise, his retribution waylaid by the suddenness of the attack. His mouth elongated into an impressed smirk, apparently satisfied enough to forgo murder.

"And you say _I'm_ harsh…"

"I'm not trying to _suffocate_ him Mello! What's the point of all our work if you just killed him here and now?"

"It would be the same! All I care about it avenging L!"

"And what was it that L gave his life for huh? What was his dying wish? That Kira be brought to justice. If it was as simple as killing Yagami, he would have assassinated him without ever leaving England. But he _didn't_. He tracked him down, and held onto him until he had enough evidence to turn him in. If he was alive, L would have _turned him in_."

"I know Matt, I know! Goddamnit… I _know _what L would have done…But when I see him, and knowing that it was because of him that L is _dead_, I just…I-I can't…" And suddenly Mello was fighting with himself, Kira's blood dripping from his clenched fists as he struggled to give words to his feelings.

"What are we doing here Matt? Why…why didn't we just take him straight to the ICPO? We got all the dirt we need… So having him here like this…There's no point…And L…L isn't here…He left us…He _took _him from us." He was hiding behind his hair again, faced away from Matt and focusing on a spot on the floor. There was only the tiniest quiver to his frame but Matt still noticed it. He stepped forward and took Mello's breath up in a strong embrace, capturing from behind, wrapping him up in his arms and resting his head over the blonde's shoulder. Mello had been tense at first, but as Matt began nibbling at his neck, licking at a pale rivulet of scar tissue, he relaxed into the warmth that Matt provided.

"Mello, it's okay. We are doing this because of L. We are doing what he would have wanted, capturing Light and giving him over to the world to be judged for his crimes. _That _is what we are doing for L. _This, _here in this shit hole, we are doing this for ourselves. Because I don't think either of us would be able to stomach it if this bastard just got the chair; cause it isn't fucking _enough_. Not for Kira." Matt paused to breathe over the shell of Mello's ear, and then lick the sensitive patch of skin beneath, slowly moving his arms down to hug Mello rather than hold him back. Matt began to whisper into his ear as he felt Mello clutch back at him, hanging onto every word like it was a lullaby for his overwrought murderous intent. Promises of blood whispered between them like sweet nothings.

"We've got our own form of justice and Yagami will taste it fully, he will know it down to the marrow of his bones until suffocating him would be an act of mercy. But we won't do that, nothing to kill him, never that, because it would be like a betrayal to L, what L wanted for him, right? L wanted the world to be the one to wear the executioner's hood." Matt was running his hands over Mello now, feeling every curve beneath the tight leather, soothing away the anger and confusion with his caressing.

"So we will give Kira to them, but only after he is so broken that he won't even be able to remember how it felt to be human, let alone how it felt to be Kira."

"I like that… Matt…" And he wasn't sure if Mello was referring to what he said, or what he was doing with his hands. Either way, Matt seemed to have succeeded in coaxing Mello back from throttling Light and had given him a different option for an outlet; an option he took up just as readily.

He breathed out, turned in Matt's arms, until they were facing each other, exchanging the full weight of heat glazing their eyes. They didn't move for a long moment, Mello held onto the stillness, enjoying the tension of tightly reined lust, enjoying the thrill of holding back enough to make his desire into a craving, a physical ache that needed to be filled. It lasted until the sight of Matt's lips parting slightly, a thin white line of teeth and glimmer of pink tongue suddenly visible, broke Mello's self control and he could not stop himself from leaning forward to take his mouth in a kiss.

It was hot and hungry, no sense of chaste foreplay or tenderness involved, simply a driving impulse to twine their tongues together and fill each other with the same urgency he felt. They both participated, making the kiss an intense coupling of lips and teeth, and hands pulling at hair, and bodies being pressed together. It became an all encompassing act, not just a simple touching of lips, and it drove both of them stumbling out of the room, slamming the door without separating or even sparing a glance back at Light, now toppled over and bleeding out.

Kira was suddenly the last thing on their minds, driven out by the need they instilled in each other.

They struggled down the hall, clothes falling off along the way, constantly tugging at one another in a bid to be the last one with something on. They crashed onto the couch, still kissing, still touching, and becoming more and more blind to anything but each other. There was nothing but the sound of their breaths, fast and needy now, nothing outside the sight of taut skin and eyes gleaming with lust, nothing but the feel of skating fingertips and warm seeking lips. They searched each other, seemingly overwhelmed by the expanse of eager exposed flesh and the multi-toned sensations they could draw out from it. Giving and taking in equal turn, they heated and tempted each other; nipping at an ear, licking across a chest, hands never at rest, tangled in hair, or caressing an ass cheek, or gently palming the hard jut of excitement between their twined legs.

Eventually, as their panting became more breathy, they left off their holistic approach and focused solely on the spiked heat, rubbing them together, smearing across the moist tips, jerking their hands up and down until they were both moaning softly and bucking with instinctual need. They were close, and it was Mello who pulled away first from their mutual pleasure. He sat up, eyes hooded to mere slits, heavy with desire, his face flushed and panting.

"I don't... want it, that way..."

And Matt, still lying back, nodded breathlessly, as his hips continued to move slightly while he waited, unable to stop once so far gone. Mello reached over to the coffee table for a bottle, and poured some of the contents into his palm; he worked it up and down Matt's shaft, enjoying how he twisted and threw his head back. He straddled the redhead, licking his lips as he slowly sat down, pressing Matt's length into himself. His mouth hung open at the familiar stretching sensation, the comfortable heat filling him completely. He barely paused once he reached the base, immediately pulling up again to start a rhythm. The motion was slick, eased along by lots of lube and practice, and within a few thrusts, Mello was already riding hard.

"_Ahh_... Mello, if you...do it like that...I'm gonna..._ha_...come too fast..."

"Go for it...Matt..."

He quickened the pace, clenching with each penetration, and Matt flopped back with shaky ecstasy studded breaths, simply allowing himself to enjoy the intense ride Mello was giving him. He could feel the growing coils of heat in his belly, filling his entire body as it came to a peak in his groin and when Mello bent over to moan his name into his ear (_Mail...), _the husky whisper pushed him over the edge completely. He jerked upwards, gripping Mello's hips as he lifted them both off the cushions with the intensity of his climax, eyes almost rolling back as euphoria spurted from deep within him.

Mello leaned back and allowed Matt to finish, murmuring lowly. "We did Matt... We really fucking did it..." The delicious look of Matt's face as he came was reward enough and he started to lift away as Matt softened, despite his still desperate arousal. He didn't get very far though as Matt suddenly reared up and tackled him down onto the couch, wrenching his legs apart and laying himself between them. He began licking and mouthing Mello's erection, still in a post orgasmic haze, but nevertheless working feverishly to fulfill Mello's need.

The sudden assault of wet heat from Matt's mouth, and the heavy lidded look of flushed satisfaction on his face as he swallowed him whole, drove Mello into a frenzy. He gripped fistfuls of red hair, tugging encouragingly and bucking his hips into the wonderful suction while his head dropped back and his breath became heavy with moans. Matt reached down, caressing his balls, and as Mello began to tremble breathlessly, he slipped his fingers further back, and pressed decisively on the perineum.

It was the trigger that set Mello off. He arched with a hoarse yell, coming violently in several spurts, each drop eagerly sucked down by Matt who kept his grip on him through the entire orgasm. They collapsed, spent and satisfied, basking in the warmth they had created with each other.

Once the heat had faded, and the passionate glistening sweat became simply cold and damp, Matt picked himself up off the couch and dragged tiredly on Mello's arm until the threat of tumbling to the floor was enough to get him upright. They stumbled the few feet to their shared bedroom and Matt shoved Mello onto the mattress to which he fell, grateful, but graceless.

"Get some sleep." Matt ordered, still leaning in the doorway. "You've been running yourself ragged with the stakeout. Now that we got him, you can relax a bit and sleep in for once." Mello was already crawling beneath the blanket when he heard the soft clink of a lighter. He looked up to see Matt taking a long draw from a freshly lit cigarette.

"Smoking before bed Matt?" he asked, sounding slightly incredulous.

Matt glanced up, toned muscles shaded nicely from the backdrop of the hallway light. "Not going to bed just yet. Gotta go do some damage control first if we don't want our hard earned prize to bleed to death in the closet overnight." Mello looked down, a dissatisfied frown lingering on his face. He felt bad for keeping Matt up because of his temper tantrum of knives and fists, knowing he was just as exhausted (if not more). The hesitation and look of slight remorse was the closest thing to an apology he could offer to the red head, since nearly killing their main directive several times over didn't bother Mello in the least.

But, Matt was right. Grudgingly, he conceded "Don't spend too much time on the prick... He doesn't deserve it."

Matt simply grinned and walked out.

* * *

He found Light in a sorry state. He hadn't moved from where he had fallen, legs twisted at a painful angle since they were still chained to the bottom of the chair which had fallen in the opposite direction. He face was pressed into the ground, an ugly smear connecting the two surfaces. The cut on his side had bled extensively, and his entire left half was drenched a dark red.

As Matt stepped closer he noticed the man was shaking, almost twitching, despite the oppressive heat from the spotlight and the visible streaks of sweat slipping down his neck. Cursing softly, he realized that Light was in the beginning phase of shock, probably from the blood loss. He hadn't thought that the cut was that bad...

He quickly set to work and unchained Light's legs, freeing him from the hindrance of a broken chair, before rolling him over to his back. And despite knowing the capabilities of Mello's unfiltered rage, Matt couldn't help but cringe and draw in a breath at the sight of Light's face, or at least the place on his head where a face should have been. It was not a pretty sight, completely bashed in and smeared with blood and grime from the floor. There were no distinguishable features visible through the sticky coating, though Matt would still place a bet on a broken nose and jaw despite not being able to see them. Maybe even a detached retina from the swelling around the eye socket...

He shook off a shiver and started unzipping the strait jacket. Light's body seemed to have escaped most of the damage except for the cut; his face had been the sole unfortunate recipient of Mello's anger. Just to be safe, he handcuffed Light to a large pipe running up through the floor and finally set to work on the gash on his side. It was not very deep, not even to bone level, but it was still bleeding sluggishly, unable to coagulate since the wound was so long. He wiped away the worst of it, and then smeared a liberal amount of coagulant gel across the wound, before covering it in adhesive bandages. He cleaned up the destroyed face as much as possible, but not bothering to bandage any of the cuts from split skin. If it wasn't life threatening he could let the bastard bear with it. Mello would most likely just rip off whatever he put on anyway. Lastly, he placed an IV and hung a saline bag from a pipe near the ceiling to replenish his blood supply and stabilize his shock.

He sighed, finally done. Light still looked like shit, and probably felt worse, but at least now he wasn't in danger of dying. And besides, wasn't his all encompassing discomfort the _point_? Matt walked away, pausing to stare back at the sprawled wreck of a man.

"Sleep while you can, cause tomorrow it'll only get worse."

* * *

Light awoke to the rather unpleasant sensation of a persistent tapping on his face. As he became more aware, he felt the tapping turn into a rolling, which left hot wet tracks down his face. He jerked fully awake when he put two and two together and realized he was being _dripped_ on. He tried to move away from the hot liquid that was now dribbling down his neck, but two things stopped him.

One was the handcuffs securely holding him in place on the floor, his arms stretched over his head and fastened around a pipe coming up from the ground. Secondly, the very instant he tensed his muscles to move, a burning bone deep pain slung itself across this entire body, the intense suddenness of it making him go rigid in shock. With the sweet numbing blanket of unconsciousness pulled back all the abuse from the day before reared up and paraded over him as he lie gasping.

His torso was sore and the cut on his side was laced with fire, scorching him every time he breathed in. His face was nothing but a throbbing mass of hurt. He couldn't tell where one ache ended and another began, the pain simply melded together into a bruise squatting on top of where his face should have been.

The hot stream of liquid was still splattering on his face, and he turned his head with a groan trying to escape the uncomfortable sensation.

"Ah, finally awake. Took you long enough, it is rude to keep people waiting Kira." The words fell over him as crusty senseless phonics, disoriented by the unexplainable pain, and the distracting wet warmth trickling over him. But the final word (_Kira_) caught his attention, enough to make him try and orient on the source.

"Thirsty? Here, have a drink before I run out." And then the water as being directed onto his lips, only he now knew that it wasn't water. He could smell it now, and unfortunately he could taste it as well, not being fast enough to press his chapped bleeding lips together, some had splattered into his mouth.

It was piss. Rank yellow piss that dribbled across him, coating his face and chest. He shuddered in revulsion at his discovery, gag reflex bobbing unpleasantly in his throat. He finally cracked open his eye (only one since the other had been swollen completely shut), and saw Mello standing over him, a foot on either side of his chest as the blonde finished relieving himself. He shook the excess off unhurriedly before lifting his foot to kick Light savagely across the face.

"What are you looking at huh? Like what you see, bitch?"

Light was still lying whipped to the side, his mouth now pooling with fresh blood from where his teeth had torn the inside of his cheek. The kick had been unexpected but not as hard as some of the punches he had experienced the night before. He slowly wondered how this was possible as he lie dazed.

Mello stared down his nose, an unimpressed sneer curling his mouth; his arms were folded across his chest, looking every bit smug and lofty as Light groaned and tried to curl up on the floor. He stepped to the side and squatted down with a sigh.

"We got off to a rough start yesterday; your peacefully sleeping face just pissed me off."

Light had rolled back again, now studying Mello for the first time without drugs in his system, or fists in his face. Anger began to boil up in him, rage at this... this _child _that had dared oppose him. The haughty disgust invigorated Light, pushing the pain down to make way for his pride as Kira. Even being chained to the floor like this, beaten and bleeding, he still had to prove his superiority.

Gathering up a wad of blood and spit in his mouth, he launched it at Mello, watching with satisfaction as it landed in an ugly smear on his cheek. For a moment neither moved, Mello seemingly frozen by the unexpected act of defiance. But the moment passed quickly as the blonde's anger thawed him in a second and he immediately struck back like a snake.

Light's head was once again punched to the side and he couldn't see straight for a long moment, the shadows of the room and flashes of gold spinning merrily across his vision, the swirling colors and dots unwilling to leave their dance floor. It was the sharp sound of cracking wood that finally clicked his senses back online. He turned his aching head to see Mello slamming the empty chair up against the wall, widening the crack in the wood.

"You shouldn't do that, makes you look childish, and it makes me angry. But then again, we both already knew that Kira was just a kid with a magnifying glass over an anthill."

The chair was thrown one more time, and finally snapped, the back flying off completely. Mello grinned smugly at the accomplishment and plunked it down forcefully next to Light.

"Now, as I was saying before you interrupted, things are gonna be different from now on. You're too much of a pussy to take a little beating and Matt would be pissed at me for killing you accidentally. So we are gonna try some other things." He sat down on the broken chair, looking almost civil except for the chilly height in his eyes.

"Why... are you doing this..." The short sentence was harder to say than they should have been. Light's jaw just didn't seem to want to move, and his swollen cut lips fumbled over the motion of making words.

"Because you are Kira. You are gonna pay for the deaths of countless people through your screams, your pain, your despair, and your death. And I'm the one who is gonna make you deliver because it is pretty much my duty as one of L's heirs."

"Fuck...you..."

Mello actually laughed, throwing his head back in growling mirth.

"_That_ would be interesting... See, in situations like this, when you are trying to create a personal world of perfect despair for someone, you usually nab someone else too. You know, to twist the knife a little. But that won't work with you, will it? Even if we carved up your pretty little sister right in front of you, you probably wouldn't even blink, cold-hearted bastard. So we gotta try extra hard to break you down with our own devices. Be thankful we are so motivated."

Mello's boot fiercely connected with his ribs, thankfully on the opposite side as his wound, but still hard enough to knock the breath out of him and roll him over with a gasping groan. The handcuffs twisted painfully around his wrists as Mello kicked him the rest of the way over to his stomach. And before he could recover at all, still choking on the feeling, he felt himself being lifted up only to be slammed back down. He landed on the chair, laying across the top of it, his arms stretched out down in front of him, still trapped to the pipe. He felt his legs being tied down to the chair and before he could even think to kick back, they were already secured.

"So fucking selfish... Can't share your suffering with anyone else, we only have you to play with, lil Kira bitch."

And he felt his ass being smacked none too lightly. He jumped more from surprise than pain, suddenly vividly aware of the compromising position he had been forced into. Ass in the air, bent over, tied down, he could feel the humiliation burning in his veins.

"A monster like you loves this sorta thing, don't ya?"

Light was silent, grinding his teeth, until he felt the cold blade of a knife slide across his exposed back.

"Answer me bitch." The knife bit down.

He gasped in pain and surprise but said nothing.

"That's not it... You gotta say it." The knife pressed down again in the same spot, harder this time, digging in deeper.

Light squirmed with a high moan, trying to dislodge the cutting pain.

"You like this game? Cause I can keep playing. Every time you don't answer, I make another cut. How do you like that?"

"_No_..."

"See? You answered, that wasn't so hard. Now tell me... Is Kira evil?"

Light merely growled. No way in hell was he going to bow to this level. The knife slid across the same spot a third time, actually severing a bit of taut muscle. He jerked with a short scream.

"Gotta use words Yagami. Is Kira evil?"

"N-no..."

"Wrong answer." Blood was pouring down his back as Mello started on a new stretch of skin. This time he cut deeply on the first slice.

"Is Kira evil?" He repeated in a dull tone, unaffected, as if he was not cutting up a screaming body.

"NO!" Light yelled it, unaware he could have forced such volume from his aching throat.

The knife dipped again, just the point now boring into his flesh.

"Come on, you just have to say it, one little word." The words were whispered, close to his ear as Mello bent over him with the knife tunneling deeper, soon it would stab straight through him. "Is Kira evil?" The softly whispered words were eclipsed by the agony of the blade, and his body took over to do something to stop the pain. He nodded his head, bumping his chin against the wood.

"Say it..." The knife started to rotate, still lodged in him.

"Yes..." The traitorous word fell out. But instead of pulling away, the knife twisted ever further.

"Yes, what?"

"Kira is... evil..." And then the knife was quickly ripped down and out, cutting a trench in his flesh. He spasmed with a scream that lasted far longer before collapsing across the chair trembling.

And suddenly inspired by the blood, and his own macabre creativity, Mello started to make a pattern from the cuts, connecting lines gleefully without asking anymore questions, just fulfilling his desire to carve words from flesh. Light could not contain himself from the constant onslaught of agony without any breaks; he screamed openly and felt tears start to gather in his aching eyes.

It didn't last for too long though and soon Mello stepped back to admire his work.

"There, now the outside matches the inside." He had carved the word 'Kira' in jagged letters across Light's back, now quivering and bleeding.

"Come on bitch, it's just a few little cuts. I didn't make such a fuss when I got these scars. If that is all you can handle then you better prepare yourself for an entirely new world pain." And hands were pulling down his pants, letting them fall to tangle with his tied legs. His mind suddenly went blank as an icy lump of apprehension grew and fizzled in his stomach. He knew what the motion implied, knew he should have expected it, but he still didn't know what it truly meant. He didn't know the _ugly _feeling of being handled, touched in private places. He didn't know the shame of having his ass slapped and then pulled apart to expose a part of him that he had never given any thought to, much less touched himself. He didn't know the unique pain of having dry burning fingers force their way inside him.

For all his genius, he really didn't know anything at all.

"You're so fucking tight... Is this really your first time slut? I guess I will have to break you in then."

The two fingers scissored and searing pain shot up his spinal cord. His muscles contracted, trying to force out the foreign object that absolutely did _not _belong there. But as his muscles bore down, the fingers bent right up to meet the pressure, sharp nails cutting into him. Light gasped desperately as the lining of his channel was split open from the nails dragging down, intentionally hooking and cutting into the vulnerable tissue.

The fingers slipped out for a second, only enough to trick Light into thinking it was over, before three more were forced right back into him. He arched with a yell, hurting himself even more from the movement since it disturbed the wounds across his back. Before the scream had even left him a fourth finger was carelessly pressed in, joining the others to surge into his now bleeding entrance, leaving gashes inside him. They began to move in and out, squirming painfully. His muscles were stretched to their limit, he could feel the ring trembling against the invading fingers and he had to clamp down on the tears that were making his vision swim. It burned, intensely, and after a few moments of this torment, all four fingers were suddenly ripped out of him, earning a sharp bark of pain from Light.

He hiccoughed, shaking and completely overwhelmed. But it was not enough to prevent him from feeling the fingers curl into a fist, and start to push on his bleeding hole.

It wouldn't work. There was no way, it wasn't possible. Light begged desperately for it to be some sick joke. But from the force Mello was putting into it, he obviously thought it _was_ possible, and after a few seconds of absolute torture, something finally gave and snapped as the fist pushed through in a torrent of blood.

Light had experienced torn muscles before, from the pounding of feet on a tennis court, but it was nothing like this. Nothing could have prepared him for this, a purity of pain that had never consumed him before in his life. The agonized noise it wrenched from him was not even a summary of the sensation, as his sphincter was forcibly ripped open far beyond its capacity. He screamed, writhed helplessly in his bonds, shook as though he were in the middle of a seizure, but nothing was enough. It was beyond enduring, he felt he was going to die from the pain that was eating him alive.

He was going to die. That was all there was to it.

But despite this belief, he continued to live. Continued to live through it, even when the fist started to rotate, forcing more of it inside, shifting and bruising his internal organs. Even when it was yanked out again, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. The air from the room stung his insides as he felt blood roll down his legs, but he was still alive. A coughing sob escaped, and he realized on a detached level that he was crying, something he hadn't done in years.

"Aww... What's wrong baby? Too much for you?" He grabbed Light's hair, yanking his head back to wipe away a tear with mock kindness before slapping him harshly.

"But I'm not even done yet..."

Held in submission and still reeling from the previous violation, Light could do nothing but tremble as the blond guided his cock in, the blunt head pushing against the sensitized tissue around his opening. The friction on his wounds sent jerking shock waves up his spine, but it wasn't enough to drown out the humiliation of being forced. The shame was enormous, and he retched in disgust at the act and at himself for allowing it to happen. He was supposed to be Kira, the God of the New World, with jurisdiction over the lives of all humans. But here he was, stripped in all meanings of the words, experiencing the most horrifying pain he had ever felt in the most humiliating way possible.

It made him sick, dry heaving from all sorts of pain.

Mello drew out slowly and then snapped forward again, seeming to enjoy hearing the choked sobs as he jabbed at the bloody entry. Light was overwhelmed by the intensity and variety of pain he felt; the raw ripping sensation from his asshole, the searing red trails of agony traced on his back, and all the previous abuse littered across his body, it all layered up on him until his world had been reduced to a blood-black rasp of excruciation and an unending babble of pleas, make it stop, Kira is evil, yes yes, evil, please stop..._no_...

Mello seemed to have finished his warm up and slid his cock completely into the tortured hole, pressing forward until they were locked together, Light's hipbones digging sharply into the wood of the chair. He waited a long moment, savoring the wet, hot feeling encasing his sex and reveling in the knowledge he had taken Light's anal virginity by force before pulling back and starting to rape the slippery channel in earnest.

The begging became a miserable moaning, accentuated with a raspy gasp on each thrust; Mello just laughed cruelly and jerked forward harder. He then brought his hands from Light's hips to grip and knead the globes of his ass before pulling them abruptly apart, further opening his anal passage and exposing the interior of the hole to more friction as it was pulled outward to become the new rim. Light howled as his virgin chute was pounded and ravaged, the pain going on and on relentlessly, mercilessly.

He was shaking and crying, humiliated and in complete agony, the laughing above him incessant as he continued to be brutalized. Each thrust made a disgusting wet sound as it squeezed into the bloodied channel. It felt as if he was being impaled with a red hot metal pole the way the length seemed to sear him. Mello was getting close, his breath coming in hot pants against his bleeding back. With a last deep entry, he splashed his seed into the trembling body beneath him. Light screamed as the fluid burned intensely against his raw passage.

It was too much, the final straw that tipped the scale; Light finally, gratefully, fainted.

Mello pulled out, a demonic grin twisting his features as he admired the blood on his cock, the blood still drizzling from Light's asshole, the blood smeared all across his back. So much blood... Maybe a bit too much... The grin faltered as he saw the expanding puddle beneath the chair and remembered his promise to Matt.

"Shit..."

* * *

A few seconds later, and Mello was back in the bedroom, poking at the lump beneath the blankets.

"Maaatt? Hey... remember what you said about damage control...?"

* * *

It had taken Matt several hours to clean up Mello's mess. The knife cuts were deep, some nearly reaching to the bone and there was absolutely nothing he could do about Light's lower half, having been reduced to a paraplegic pulp. His main concern was stabilizing the bleeding and there had been a few tense moments when he couldn't get a wound to close. But eventually, with most of Light's back covered in bandages, he was able to finish.

Mello had hung about the room, feeling sorry not for Light, but for the extra work he had created for Matt. He helped by handing the redhead items as he called out for them. Now they both worked together to reapply the straitjacket, strapping it firmly across Light's unresponsive body. As they continued tugging, the jostling eventually awoke Light from his uneasy slumber. He raised his head, bleary, disoriented, sporting black eyes and multiple cuts. His eyes widened as he saw Mello, and he reflexively tried to scoot away, only to fall down on his back. He yelped as he landed on his still fresh wounds, and Mello couldn't stop the grin that twisted his features upon hearing it.

"Dumbass... You forget where you are already? Guess I didn't leave much of an impression. I will have to try harder next time."

Light squirmed on the ground, trying to relieve the pressure on his back, but being unable to due to the stifling jacket. He hated the whimper that trickled from him, hated the complete helplessness that left him writhing on the floor, hated the way they both stared, obviously enjoying his inability to even sit up.

Eventually Mello reached down and fisted his hand into Light's bloody tangle of hair, pulling him up to his knees. He swayed, unable to keep his balance but for the excruciating pressure on his scalp.

"Now look, you stupid cunt. Matt here has so graciously spent his time saving your worthless life; don't you think you owe him a thank you?" When Light didn't answer, he aggressively shook his head, whipping him around like a flag.

"Say thank you, bitch! Come on... I thought you had learned how to play this game already. Do I have to start over again with you?" Light flinched, the burning streaks on his back reminding him that they didn't play fair.

"Th-thank you..." He mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"Well, that didn't sound very sincere. How about we find a different way for you to show your gratitude, hmm? How does that sound Kira? You're more of a hands-on person anyway." He beckoned to Matt, until the redhead stood before them. He grinned and started to undo his fly.

Light's eyes widened in terror as he realized what they expected of him. There was no way he could possibly do something so repulsive. It was one thing to be tied down and raped, another thing entirely to actually suck someone off, that required a dubious amount of consent..._willingness_...

He lurched back, ignoring the pain it cause from his tangled hair, trying anything he could to escape the hard red erection that had emerged from the folds of Matt's pants. But Mello had a granite grip on his head, forcing him forward, and the suit restrained the rest of him. In the end, all Light could do was tightly clamp his mouth shut while the menacing length floated closer to his face, actually rubbing across his cheek at one point. He trembled in disgust when he felt the hot flesh touch him, completely mortified by the action. Then Matt twisted his hips, and actually slapped him across the face with his dick; it wasn't painful, but the humiliation was so great he thought he would just die on the spot.

Mello yanked on his head, lifting it up as he produced his knife, now gleaming and clean.

"Come on... Open up and say thank you..."

The apex was pushed across his tightly pressed lips, making them bleed even more until he could not hold them closed. Then the knife wedged between his teeth, and his jaw was levered open by the blade. Light panicked, his eyes growing wide with raw fear, his breath pulsing rapidly between his pried open lips, but unable to do anything. Mello leered at him as he manhandled his head into place, and the knife in his mouth tilted, now the cutting edge of it was pressed across his gums on the bottom half. If he tried to close his jaw even the slightest bit, the blade would cut him.

"That's right... That's how you do it..." The very second there was enough leeway, Matt jerked his hips forward, plunging himself into Light's open mouth. He instantly gagged, feeling the disgusting piece of meat force itself all the way to the back of his throat, taking it in up to the hilt while his nose was buried in wiry red hairs. He tried to bite down, to do anything to get it out, remove the wretched feeling, but any pressure was met with the sharp pain from the knife still wedged into the side of his mouth. Mello was still squatting down next to him, holding him still and keeping his mouth open while Matt started moving. He seemed morbidly fascinated by the tears that were gathering in Light's eyes, how his face tightened and winced with every inward thrust, and the way he fought down a gag with every outward movement. It was a complete transparency, his pain, disgust, and fear all on display as his mouth was raped.

Matt sped up his pace, and then gripped at Light's head and began to move it along his length. Having his head jerked back and forth was even worse, and he couldn't stop himself from trying to bite down, despite the blood bright pain it caused in his mouth, the knife cutting deep into his gums. He spasmed, tasting metallic blood, and yet the cock kept pistoning in and out, faster and faster, until it was suddenly shoved in far as it fit and he was filled with yet another warm liquid.

Matt finally pulled away with a sigh, "You're welcome, Kira..."

Light simply slumped, the only thing holding him up was the hand still gripping his hair. His eyes had become tarnished, glistening with tears and nothing else. His mind seemed to have locked itself away. Mello finally allowed him to drop to the floor, where he lay motionless.

He looked up to see Matt strolling towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

He glanced back, pausing to answer "Bathroom."

An idea gripped Mello at that mention, and he smirked sickly.

"Why walk all the way down the hall when we have a fine toilet right here?"

Matt tilted his head, slightly bewildered until his gaze fell upon Light. He then grinned too, realizing what Mello was getting at.

"Look, it is all nice and stretched out for you." Mello had begun to prod at Light's ass, and it seemed to be enough to snap him out of his funk. He curled up, trying to protect his vulnerable backside, but Mello was relentless. He grabbed him by the jacket, pushing him down even further to the floor, his head grinding into the concrete, while Matt had come back over and raised his hips.

He had been right, Light still had not recovered from the abuse he had suffered from Mello's fist. His entrance was red and swollen, looking extremely pliable. Matt pushed his fingers in, working the loose ring of muscle open with three, four fingers, and then the tips of all five fingers steepled together, twisting and opening him. Light did not withstand these actions silently; he groaned and gagged, squirming about beneath Mello's puissant grip. But it did nothing. Matt replaced the fingers with the head of his cock, limp now, but still able to cause a different type of damage.

Light moaned quietly as they waited a few seconds, Matt spreading his legs slightly and relaxing. Then Light could feel it. Sickening heat, much more than Mello's release, was filling him, seeping into him and burning the internal wounds with its acidity. He whimpered, tears slipping down his cheek as the fluid seared him. There was just so much of it, he felt uncomfortably full already, but Matt showed no sign of stopping. Just when it started to really hurt, Matt finally pulled away, dribbling the last of it across Light's ass and down the back of his legs.

Mello also released him, allowing him to fall over and curl up, hating the burning heat that was now flowing out of his ass. He couldn't hold it in and it was almost more humiliating to not even have control over his own body as the yellow liquid spilled out, drenching himself.

"Wow, Kira is so sloppy... Who ever would have thought..." Mello gloated, drinking in the sight of his weakness with relish.

After a few more taunts and kicks, they left to shower. Spending so much time abusing their captive had them covered in blood, piss, and other bodily fluids. Leaving Light to wallow in his own stench was a fine enough punishment but not something they wanted to share.

The rest of the day passed in an unknowable span of time. There were no windows in the closet, only that sweltering oppressive spotlight that was on at all times.

They began to take shifts. Matt was the first to return, in order to give him some food, consisting of bread and water. He was once again forced to proclaim Kira's evilness and his own damnation before Matt gave him a bite and each swallow consisted of him digging up already damaged pride. Every time he scowled, or tried to say anything defiant, he received a slap. By the end of the "meal" he had been so thoroughly demoralized, it was as if Matt had spent his time physically torturing him rather than feeding him.

After Matt had finished, Mello had returned with a bit gag. Forcing the thick hard rubber bar into Light's mouth, he then spent several hours simply talking. Talking about morals, humans, and the futility and idiocy that was Kira. He knew Light would not simply succumb to talking, but having to sit through it, already in agonizing pain and yet being unable to talk back and defend his position... It was utter torture.

Then Matt entered the room once more and they silently, ruthlessly fucked him on both ends. They didn't even need the threat of a knife anymore; his jaw was broken and so swollen by now that he could not bite down even if he had wanted to. He could do nothing but choke on the hard male length suffocating him, and cry shamefully from the pain of the matching one raping his still bleeding and raw ass. On his knees, arms still awkwardly, painfully trapped, while his head was head up by the roots of his hair. He was reamed open in two directions, his world split down the middle by rape and rhetoric.

He could not escape the physical pain and he could not block out the mental barrage. They broke him down until there was nothing left, until he silently took their abuse, and meekly nodded his head when asked about Kira's atrocities. There was no fight left, but they could still play with a toy even after it was broken, continue to twist the mangled limbs. They could go on for a long time.

And it _had_ gone on. And on and on...

It had gone on to the point where they physically could not get hard anymore after so many rounds, and they could not keep Light conscious anyway.

They left him tumbled on the floor, lying in the grime and shame.

* * *

"He's such a loose slut now, one cock doesn't do it for him anymore..."

It had been several days, each one blurring into the last in a haze of blood and pain. But at that mention Light was still able to look up with real fear condensed in his eyes, glistening and undeniable. He realized his mistake too late and ducked his head to hide the transparent emotion that had taken control of him. But Mello had seen it, seen Light's eyes turn liquid with fear, and he turned with a sudden new interest, a devilish grinning leer to better appraise him.

"What's this? You really do want two at once?"

After breaking Light down so far, to bring back such a gleaming apprehension, finally free from his stubborn pride, was such a turn on that the idly tossed threat suddenly became a worthy goal to attempt. The grin grew hungry, starved for more of that delectable fear, and he was already drawing out the logistics of the endeavor in his head even as he stared at a now silent and bowed Light.

"Whaddya say Matt? Wanna give it a shot? Think that the two of us together will be enough to satisfy this little cumbag?"

Matt, still smoking in the corner, had been silent and indifferent the entire time, but seeing the demonic gleam in Mello's eyes was enough to tell him that even though he had phrased it as a question, he didn't have a choice in the matter either.

He was going to have to get up for this; in both meanings of the word. He sighed, exhaling a thin stream of smoke and then stood with a lopped grin.

"It'll work best if we string him up..."

"You've _done _this before?"

"Naw... But I've seen some pornos and if we do it like that we won't be in each other's way."

Mello gave a snort, gathering up a length of chain nonetheless.

"Should be fun to try regardless..."

"_No..._" Light had been listening with growing eyes the entire time. They were wide now, trembling, filled with that fear that Mello liked so much.

"What, you don't think it'll be fun lil Kira? Don't be so ungrateful, we are doing all this for _you_..." He had stepped over towards Light, busily looping the chain around his forearms and then unhooking a few straps so that he would be able to lift them over his head.

"Please... Mello... Don't do this." Light wasn't struggling, didn't resist the movement or the tight chain pinching even through the thick canvas material. But now he was begging and the trembling had extended through his whole body now. Mello actually closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as if to savor the admission, the fact that Kira was now groveling at his feet.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

"_Please_..." It was all Light could say.

"How many people do you think would have begged for mercy from you? They didn't receive any and by this point you should know that you aren't going to get any either, especially from us." Mello had finished with the chain and was already looking up to find a thick enough pipe to hold him. He slung it up, allowing it to catch over top and slide back down. He handed the end off to Matt who took it and together they began hoisting until Light was raised up from the ground with a moan. Matt locked the chain into place by winching it between two more pipes and they looked upon their handiwork.

Light was hanging miserably in the middle of the room at about shoulder height, his entire body weight painfully held up by crossed forearms. His legs were locked back with his knees bent, and being so fully stretched out had caused his stitched side to start bleeding again. He hung his head, groaning softly every few seconds, trying to shift some of the weight off of his screaming arms to no avail. He looked like a wriggling worm, completely helpless and ready to be devoured.

Mello was delighted, taking a malicious glee in Light's suffering, knowing that it was only going to get worse. He was the first to step forward, lifting up and wrenching Light's naked legs apart. He pinched at Light's limp member, flicking harshly at his balls making him flinch and try to bring his legs together. It only brought Mello closer to him and he could already feel the bulge present in his leather pants. He whimpered at the sensation, already feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of what they were going to do to him.

Suddenly, Matt was behind him, biting his shoulder and digging his hands into his ass cheeks. It caused the chain to sway and he was pushed forward into Mello who merely crushed them together further, now grinding slowly, purposefully between Light's bound legs.

The rubber bit, an item Light had become all too familiar with over the last few days, was pushed into his mouth, rendering him silent.

"Are you scared Kira? Afraid you will break in two?" Mello growled. "Would you beg if you could? Listen to him breathing, Matt. It's pathetic."

He could not stop the trembling or the whimpers that now fell nonstop from his throat as fingers from two different hands pried and pulled at his aching and raw entrance.

The fingers did not leave him yet, but Light felt the soft-hard bluntness of a cock press against his opening, and then the sensation was duplicated, the heads of two cocks pushing against his opening, squeezing in side by side, together as one by one, the fingers that had been tenting him open departed, slithering out as the two cockheads pushed inside, one slightly before the other, but the other sliding forward to make up the distance.

A sound came from one of them, maybe both of them; he had no way of telling now, which was which. Suddenly there was a thrust and one was wedged in deeper, deeper still, and there was the sound of two bodies pressed together, breathing over him, making an adjustment and both cocks were now forcing their way in further. Light howled, or it would have been a howl had his mouth been unobstructed. Now all that could be heard was a strangled tortured gurgle as he let his head fall back against Matt's thrusting form and stare unseeingly at the ceiling, as if appealing to the heavens, beseeching the god Light didn't believe in.

They continued to push in, stretching him impossibly, causing fresh blood to dribble down. It was worse than the first time, worse than anything else they had ever done to him, because now they were kissing each other, moaning and actually enjoying it, taking pleasure from his body when all he felt was terrible rending pain. He was cradled between them, screaming silently, each motion tearing him apart, in both mind and body.

* * *

There was something different.

He knew this, because the heat from the spotlight had dissipated, the wetness he had learned to live with every moment had dried up. He was not in that closet anymore but that was all he knew.

His body was a thing that throbbed as one with every heartbeat, pain peaking on the intake, receding back to barely tolerable levels on the release as he lie still, breath hitching painfully into his lungs every fourth beat.

A shadow fell over his sallow, waxy, sweat-sheened form. He was still breathing in that worrying, choking way that seemed to stop too often and stumbled as his chest shuddered with the effort it took simply to move air in and out of his lungs. His lips quivered, cracked and coated in smears of blood and dried saliva – whiteness gathering in the corner of his mouth. His tear-glazed, red eyes cracked open, puffy, and dark on the lower lid. It took several seconds to focus, then several more to comprehend exactly who it was he was looking at. When he finally realized, Light let out a long, relieved gasp, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly in palliative amusement.

It was a cop, an ordinary Japanese police officer leaning over him talking desperately into a radio. He seemed to be calling for backup, no wait, an ambulance. Light just let his head fall back, not worrying about what was going to happen to him, only certain that he was no longer in the grasp of those two demons, free from their pain drenched world.

But it didn't matter. The damage was already done. Damage was done before he was even dropped off here, probably tossed in a bleeding heap on the stairs of the police department. He was their agenda, after all, wasn't he? This is what they said would happen...

Once they had broken him down, shown him the reality of perfect despair, the only thing he had left waiting for him was the electric chair.

Light began to laugh, seeing the symmetry of the entire plot and where it had landed him. It was suddenly hilarious that Kira, () was going to be arrested in a hospital of all places. The hysterical tilt of his howling peals of laughter competed with the sirens that had begun to wail around him.

He had nothing else.

* * *

Any thoughts? (Anyone run screaming yet?)


End file.
